


32 days of Sanji

by DetectiveBiggs98



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Family, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-22 23:57:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7458640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveBiggs98/pseuds/DetectiveBiggs98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Collection of stories following the 32 days of Sanji prompts)</p><p>Chapter one:<br/>Raising a child is a bad idea. In fact, it's such a bad idea, Zeff has constructed an entire list of reasons why he should send the little eggplant away with the first person who'll take him</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The list (Family)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little late to the game but idc I wanna join in anyways (ง'̀-'́)ง fight me

  1. **Zeff was a former pirate, not a babysitter**



 

As Zeff watched the brat scurry into the Kitchen with a stack of dishes, he couldn’t shake the feeling this was a bad idea.

Zeff had committed many sins in his life--he was not the person who should be raising a brat. Zeff had killed and lied, maimed and plundered, any sense of morality had been abandoned long ago.

He was Red Leg Zeff, former captain of the Cook pirates. A pirate crew fierce enough to survive a voyage on the Grand Line. A pirate crew that was dead.

Shoving the familiar pang of grief away, he set a box filled with silverware on the countertop. “Don’t break those.”

The brat rolled his eyes and set the plates by the sink, a feat that required a stool to accomplish. “I’m not stupid.”

As he turned to retrieve the next batch, Zeff studied how frail the brat was. They’d spent these past months recovering while getting the paperwork for his restaurant worked out, but signs of their near starvation still plagued them. Tapping his wooden leg against the tiled floor, he mused some more than others. Not that it mattered. He’d chosen to take a leg rather than an arm, and he’d done it knowing full well his career as a pirate would be over.

From the moment his ship vanished beneath that wave, it had been over anyways. Without his crew, he was no Captain. There was no adventure. He was just Zeff, a damn good chef.

He may have chosen another dream to fulfill, but he hadn’t given up on his old one. He’d just... passed it to the next generation. Yeah, that’s why he’d let the little eggplant hang around this long. If he died, so did his dream of All Blue.

That’s all this was.

After he hired some extra hands and found someone suitable to care for him, he’d send the brat away for good.

  


  1. **Brat was too damn stubborn**



 

Zeff was putting on the finishing touches when he heard clanging coming from the Kitchen. Only a day had passed since the Baratie had set sail--no one should be aboard but him and the little eggplant. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he pulled the door open, especially, when he found said eggplant huddled against the counter, knees pulled into his chest, wide eyes glued to the doorway.

“What are you sniveling about, brat?”

“I’m not sniveling you old geezer!!” He snapped, fingers clawing angry white lines into his knees.

Zeff was about to point out he was clearly sniveling no matter how you looked at it when a dark shape fell from the ceiling.

The little eggplant screamed, and jumped onto the countertop, snatching a steak knife out of the sink.

Zeff promptly smacked him upside the head with his chef’s hat. “Don’t you dare defile my Kitchen!!”

Craning his neck to investigate, he spotted a spider the size of his palm crawling past his boot. Must’ve hitched a ride in their luggage.

He caught it inside a jar with ease, lifting it with a hand covering the bottom, and setting it on the countertop.

That got the eggplant on the floor. He scuttled away until his back hit the wall, waving his knife in the direction of the trapped spider. “If anything’s ‘defiling your Kitchen’ it’s that!!”

“How long were you planning on cowering in here?” Didn’t the eggplant know to call for help in times like these? Not that he cared.

His face flushed with color. “I wasn’t cowering!”

Zeff raised a brow at him.

“I wasn’t!! I was just--” He jerked his head around, scanning the room with fervor. “I was just chopping up onions!! Now I’m tired!” He stomped past, giving the spider a parting glance and shuddering. As he vanished down the hallway, he yelled: “Shitty old geezer!”

There were so many holes in his story; Zeff wondered if the brat was even trying. Making a mental note to check for stowaways next time, he retired upstairs.

  


  1. **Brat was damaged**



 

This became apparent a month after the Baratie’s official opening. He’d noticed several peculiarities about the brat, but those he could place.

The reason he’d catch his breath whenever a wave rocked the Baratie was because of the accident that night. He became furious over wasted food due to nearly starving to death.

Those behaviors, he understood, and knew how to deal with. But, then, there were the things he couldn’t place. Like, his meltdown earlier.

The afternoon had started normal. Customers filed in, the new cooks--Patty and Carne--argued, the little eggplant scrubbed the dishes and ignored them for the most part. Things were going smoothly, even when a pirate tried to skip out his tab. Wasn’t an unusual occurrence.

Carne and Patty rushed out to deal with him, knives and large forks held high.

The little eggplant followed, eyebrows knitted together to form a scowl.

Zeff didn’t lecture him this time, just took over washing the dishes. Didn’t feel alarmed until the sound of crashing came from the Galley.

“Someone save the kid!!”

That was Patty’s voice.

Drying his soapy hands on a rag, Zeff shoved the door open.

Patty was running past with his hands on his head.

_CRASH!!_

“I’ll kill you!!”

Eggplant?

Frown deepening, he scanned the panicked crowd until he’d located the brat. He was standing in the middle, several tables pushed out of his way, a knife in his hands. A lady lay on the floor several feet away, hand over her swollen cheek.

“Only a coward would hit a woman!!” Eggplant yowled, glare deepening into something darker. Killing intent. Same as that night on the orbit.

He remained rigid in morib fascination, even when the eggplant lunged, slashing the pirate across his thigh.

Patty ran past Zeff again; this time headed in the opposite direction. “Someone stop the kid!!”

It was comical how quickly the chef’s changed their tune, but Zeff wasn’t laughing. He tucked his arms over his chest, watching the brat fight for all he was worth to free himself and attack again.

“Lemme go!!! I’ll slaughter him!! I’ll slit his throat, I’ll--”

The would be eat-and-runner collapsed pathetically on his ass, a string of choked cursing as he applied pressure to the gash.

“--he’s scum!! Y’hear me!!? You piece of--”

Zeff had heard enough. He marched over as the pirate made an attempt to crawl away, roundhouse kicking him clear across the Galley.

This, made the eggplant’s shouting cease, and the stunned audience shifted their focus to him.

“Don’t you dare trash my restaurant, you two-bit trash.”

A heartbeat of silence, two, three, then the crowd erupted into cheers and angry yowls.

“That’s right!!”

“You scum!!”

“Just who do you think you are!?”

The bloody and battered pirate ended up paying not only for his tab but also for the damages before being booted out (literally). Carne and Patty hurriedly began to set the tables up and get their customers seated, while Zeff wandered off to find the brat. He’d slunk away amidst the confusion, and Zeff wasn’t done with him yet.

Kitchen was empty besides the few chef’s scurrying around, trying their damnedest to cover the orders themselves, bedroom was untouched, hallway clear. Another reason he hated brats. They were so tiny, they could hide themselves just about anywhere.

Took him longer than he’d like to admit, but he managed to track the little eggplant down outside, sitting with his back to the railing.

Head buried in his quaking knees, ragged breaths, he sounded more terrified than he’d been when that spider cornered him in the Kitchen.

Couldn’t be mad at him after seeing this.

Leaning against the wall, he studied the brat. “What was all that about?”

He flinched, burying himself deeper in his arms. “Nothing.”

They remained at a standstill for a minute or so before Zeff let out a long sigh, and proceeded to give the brat a light kick.

“What do you think you’re doing slacking off, you brat!!? There’s work to be done!!”

The eggplant glared up at him, but there was no venom in it. “My name is Sanji. Are you so dumb you _still_ can’t remember my name, you old geezer!?”

“I have no interest in remembering the name of a low time brat such as yourself. Get back to the Kitchen, there’re plates that need to be scrubbed.”

Muttering insults beneath his breath, the eggplant obeyed.

Zeff stayed outside, listening to the waves lap against the side of the ship. Again, he wondered if he should send the brat off. Zeff knew damaged people.

He could pick out the signs of an abused brat in his sleep. A rough guy like himself wouldn’t be able to do much for the eggplant. He should find someone with an understanding of emotional stuff. A therapist to take care of him.

His staff wasn’t as big as he’d like, but with Patty and Carne, they could manage. Yeah, they could do it. But then again, the more help they had, the better, right? He’d keep the eggplant around a little longer.

Yeah, just a little longer.

  


  1. **Zeff had no idea what he was doing**



 

The brat, as Zeff was finding out, wasn’t like other brats. He’d bought a couple of parenting books while shopping for supplies in town, and everything it warned against, wasn’t a problem. Eggplant, unlike the average nine-year-old, didn’t throw tantrums. He complained, cursed, but never threw himself onto the ground and wept, for which Zeff was grateful. Brat had no qualms being alone either, seemed to prefer it, as he’d catch him wandering off with a recipe book whenever they had down time. Didn’t want to play--and to take it farther, Zeff got the feeling the brat would be disgusted from the mere suggestion.

He was starting to wonder if everything this book talked about was nonsense. All these ‘nap times,’ and ‘hugs’, and ‘love,’ crap was making him nauseous.

Puffing out his chest, he reflected that his brat, though a brat, was responsible, independent, and already had a job.

Wait, he meant _the_ not _his._

Definitely not his.

Zeff wasn’t trying to be a parent, he was just, you know, learning how to make the brat shut up. Yeah, that’s all.

Slipping a loose sheet of paper in between the pages to mark his place, he closed the book and set it on the nightstand.

Although most of that crap was useless, he decided some of the things could be applicable. Next time the brat got snotty, he’d send him upstairs for one of those ‘timeouts.’ Smirking at the image of eggplants horrified expression, he hauled himself off his bed and headed downstairs.

  


  1. **Really, all in all, this was just a terrible idea**



  


“Hey, that kid over there, he yours?” A guy asked one day.

Zeff followed his gaze to the little eggplant, who was going from table to table taking orders. “No.”

A slow nod and he pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I can take him off your hands for you--if you want of course.” He added when Zeff scowled at him. “Y’see, me and my wife, we run an orphanage in Loguetown. We can track down his relatives, see if he has any, and if he doesn’t, we can find him a loving home. Sounds like a nice deal, doesn’t it?”

It did. Zeff didn’t understand why the suggestion made him want to tear his bespectacled customer a new one. He turned, examining the eggplant who’d grown still, pen frozen on the surface of his notepad.

This is what he’d been waiting for. A good person, a perfect offer, and the eggplant would be sent somewhere better, somewhere that could provide for him. A home with people who could give him what he needs.

Zeff opened his mouth to agree, the same way he’d rehearsed, same lines he’d practiced, but nothing came. His mind went blank.

The man frowned at him, something like sympathy in his dark eyes. “I’ll give you time to consider my offer.”

“No need,” Zeff answered before he could question it. “The little eggplant is my sous chef, he’s staying here.”

He blinked, twice, pulled his glasses off and rubbed the lens on his sleeve. “A-Are you sure about this, sir!? He’s a ki--”

“Your order?” Zeff growled, the bite in his voice surprising even himself.

The man froze, jerkily lifted his menu, and mumbled a dish off the top.

Zeff nodded in tune and stomped off before he throttled the guy out of agitation at the offer, and himself for refusing it.

Meanwhile, the little eggplant had sprung back to life, scurrying to the next table, small notepad held high.

He smirked a little at the sight but shook it away just as fast. Really, what a terrible idea. He’d go back to the guy and--

An hour later, the guy had left, and eggplant was still scrubbing dishes in the Kitchen. Zeff didn’t know what was wrong with himself. But, after they’d closed for the day, and he found the brat sound asleep at a cleared table, he knew he wouldn’t be able to see him go. Scooping the runt up and carrying him upstairs, he realized it was too late.

He’d gotten attached.

Setting eggplant on the mattress with a gentleness he hadn’t known himself capable of, smiling softly, the old him would’ve gagged at the sight.

Here he was, Red Leg Zeff, nameless street rat, murderer, thief, doting on a brat. Damn. Despite his shock, he wasn’t disgusted, wasn’t angry anymore.

Instead, he came to a conclusion.

Zeff wasn’t a half-assed kind of man. He wasn’t going to let anyone take his brat, and he sure as hell wasn’t sending him back to whatever broken family he’d come from. Zeff had saved him. Zeff had taken care of him this past year.

He was going to continue doing so, until, the brat was fully grown and ready to set sail to accomplish his dream--the dream they both shared.

Zeff must’ve lost his mind on that rock, because looking at eggplant’s peaceful expression, he puffed out his chest.

That’s right, _his_ brat was going to find the All Blue. And, damn, he’d never been so proud of anything in his entire life.


	2. Something like fate (Love)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji meets a certain orange farmer while on the run from his family

Sanji staggered out of the alleyway, squinting against the sleet of warm rain. He’d been running nonstop since yesterday when he’d caught sight of a Germa soldier. They were stubborn he’d give them that. They’d been at his heels since he’d left.

Running for so long, with little food and water was starting to take its toll. His legs were rubbery, his eyes burned, lungs ached.

 _Just a little farther,_ He urged himself. _Just a little farther, and I’ll be safe._

He could do this. If he could just make it to the docks, he could stowaway in one of the departing ships. Not a cost, not a trace.

He paused, examining his reflection in the window of a Bakery. Straightening his dirtied clothes, he decided to ask for the location of the nearest port.

Streets weren’t empty, but they weren’t crowded either. Though, the few standing around seemed shady at best.

Two men sat in the entrance of an alleyway, beefy arms covered in tattoos, taking turns puffing on a cigar. They looked cool, but also dangerous.

Next person.

An older marine lady was sitting on a bench with a newspaper.

Out of the question.

She’d ask where his parents were, then they’d have a problem.

His last option was the lady leaning against a streetlamp, a lit cigarette hanging limp between her index and middle finger. She looked every bit as shady as the two men, purple hair pulled into a ponytail, sides shaved off in a weird style he could only describe as a ‘pony hawk.’

She had her back to him, but he could tell by her body language approaching might be a bad idea.

He did, anyways.

“Excuse me,” He mumbled, tugging at his fingers. What would he do if she attacked?

She craned her neck to get a look at him, squashed her cigarette against the streetlamp, and flicked it to the pavement with a wide grin. “What is it, kid?”

His cheeks heated up at the sight of her, and he clasped his hands together. “You’re hair is weird but you’re still really beautiful lady!!”

“What did you just say!!?” She snapped, giving his head a swift punch.

“Ow!!” He complained, giving the bump bulging beneath his hair a remorseful pat. “Why’d you do that!?”

“That’s my question you rude brat!!” She yelled back, shaking her fist at him.

“I was just asking for directions!!”

“Then you should’ve just asked instead of--agh!! Where are your parents!!?”

Sanji sobered instantly. This had not been a part of the plan. Maybe he should’ve gone with the marine lady after all.

“I-I dunno.” He stammered, shrugging to really sell it.

The woman narrowed her eyes at him, and he was sure he’d have to run for it. Find the docks by himself if need be.

Then, she rested her hands on her hips and threw her head back in a howling laugh. “You are such a brat!! All right, I’ll forgive you for insulting my hair if you buy me lunch--” She trailed off purposely, gesturing for him to fill the blank.

“...Sanji..”

She grinned, extending a hand to shake. “Bellemere, orange farmer from the East blue, nice to meetcha.”

He took it grudgingly. “If you’re from the East blue, why’re you all the way out here in the North?”

She winked at him, holding up a wallet. “Tell ya over lunch, ‘kay?”

Wait. His hands flew to his pockets, patting them down, digging inside when he felt them empty. That was _his_ wallet!! When did she--!!?

Before he could ask, she strolled away, humming a low note beneath her breath. Eye twitching, teeth grinding, he had no choice but to follow.

Yup. Should’ve gone with the marine.

She lead him to a small diner near the oceanside, rambling on about an ‘excellent fertilizer’ she just had to have, and other gardening stuff he didn’t understand.

He could’ve sworn there was steam coming from his ears when she finally relented, leaning over the table and interlacing her fingers. “So, brat, are you a local?”

He resisted the urge to hide beneath the table. “N-No. I’m just passing through.”

“Passing through, huh? You’re pretty mature even though you’re just a brat.”

He opened his mouth for a retort, but she carried on.

“I have two daughter’s back home, ya know, in Cocoyasi Village.” Her hand hovered above his head, as though measuring him. “The youngest is about your age.”

He blinked, “Really?”

“Mmhm. Her name’s Nami, she’s really cute if I do say so myself.” A mischievous glint emerged in her steely eyes. “Maybe you two will get married one day.”

Sanji nearly fell out of the booth, nose scrunched up. “Ew! No way!! I like girls but I don’t wanna marry one!!”

Bellemere let out another howley laugh, slapping her palms against the table with enough force to make the ice in their cups clatter.

“What’s so funny!!?” He snapped. “Weird hair!!”

She straightened instantly, lips drawn into a snarl. “Shaddup, weird eyebrows!!”

“Pickpocket!!”

“Brat!!”

Silence settled over the table, and they jerked their heads in opposite directions.

Another moment, Bellemere sighed. “We’re being childish.”

Lips pulled into a tight line, he nodded. “..Yeah.”

Her face lit up, a mixture of joy and mischief. “Hey, you should come visit some time. My oranges are the best you’ll ever taste, I guarantee it.”

Sanji was at a loss for words. He squirmed in his seat, hoping she didn’t plan on dragging him home with her. “Y-Yeah. Sure thing.”

He didn’t think it possible, but her grin spread wider. “Great! You can buy me lunch again!”

Eyes shooting wide as saucers, he tried to yell he’d changed his mind, but the waiter chose this moment to set their food on the table.

“Ahh! Thank you!” She beamed, digging in faster than he could acknowledge the food’s presence.

 _She’s a strange lady,_ He decided. He also decided he didn’t hate that about her.

Stopping by Cocoyasi Village didn’t sound too bad, on second thought. Of course, much later, a day he’s not on the run.

“You wabted difections?” She asked through a mouthful of steak.

He cringed inwardly at her table manners, cutting his slice into neat pieces. “To the docks, yeah.”

A slow nod, and she swallowed. “I’ll show you. I was heading there anyways.”

Biting back a rising protest, he forced a calm nod. He’d take this time to scope out a decent ship. No problem. He could run whenever he wanted to.

They polished off their meal in a matter of minutes, and Bellemere sauntered off to pay, leaving him by himself at the door.

The rain had let up while they were inside, rays of sunlight streaming between the clumps of cloud. His shirt clung to his skin like a damp rag, and he guessed it kinda was one at this point, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Being on the lamb was hard.

Peeking inside through the window, he caught a glimpse of Bellemere talking to the guy working the front desk. Sighing, he averted his gaze to his ratty sneakers, hoping she wouldn’t spend the entire day in there.

“--’scuse me, you haven’t happened to see this boy have you?”

Sanji stiffened. He turned painfully slow, as though the dread spreading through his limbs was palpable, more than a quiver in his chest, an icy river down his spine. Two Germa soldiers were standing on the other side of the street with their backs to him, showing a photo to an elderly couple.

The old lady frowned, then looked up and locked eyes with him.

Without another thought, he bolted. Shouting followed, along with the sound of footsteps drumming over the sidewalk.

He had to get away. Had to run. He couldn’t go back there!! Never again!!

Ducking through an alleyway, throwing himself over a chainlink fence, nearly getting trampled by a crowd of sailors, he stumbled into the docks.

There were too many ships for him to count, and he didn’t have the time to be picky. Not waiting to catch his breath, he made for the first ship he saw.

A tall metal ship called ‘The Orbit.’

Years later, he found himself in a small village called Cocoyasi, searching for a girl named Nami. Bellemere had lied, her daughter wasn’t merely cute, she was _gorgeous._ As was Nojiko.

He feigned ignorance, asking about Nami’s past, pretending to simply fancy her.

He really was interested, but not for the reason he let on.

Where was Bellemere? What were they dealing with here? What had become of Cocoyasi Village?

When Nojiko told him about Bellemere’s death at the hands of Arlong, he lit a cigarette and stared blankly at the sky. Yet another wonderful lady dead too young.

Shouldn’t have stood her up that day.

After they destroyed Arlong park, after they’d saved Nami, after the party, after everything, Nami approached him with an orange in each hand.

“Here.” She winked. “Consider it a thank you gift.”

Sanji swooned, telling his dear Nami how beautiful and amazing she was as she strolled over to Usopp and gave him the other.

“Enjoy them, Bellemere’s oranges are the best you’ll ever taste.”

For a moment, he stared at her, jaw slack. Hadn’t Bellemere said the exact same thing? Thankfully, Nami was too busy talking to Usopp to notice.

Leaning against the railing, he flicked his cigarette into the ocean, turning the fruit over in his hands.

Well, if two beautiful ladies were saying it, then it must be true.

Unnoticed to the rest of the crew, Sanji smiled softly as he popped a slice into his mouth.

“I finally got to try one.”


	3. A kid like ghost peppers (Spices)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm all caught up!! “ψ(｀∇´)ψ MUWHAHAHAHA!!!!

Patty did not sign up for this. Sure, he wanted a job, a place he could cook without being fired within the first week, but _this_ was plain crazy.

To start it off, a kid no older than nine was technically his boss.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he could not for the life of him figure out how to deal with him. Patty was no good with kids. Kids usually ran from Patty crying, especially when he smiled and tried to be friendly.

This kid, however, no matter how much he wished he would, wasn’t afraid of him. Annoyed by him? Yes, he made that quite clear. Afraid? No.

He’d tried to remedy that, threaten him a little, just enough to show him who was in charge, but that had not gone over well.

Let’s just say Patty will never doubt a cuttings board ability to block flying knives ever again and leave it at that (Damn had Patty been glad when Zeff broke him of that).

Whenever he watched the kid, he was reminded of a ghost pepper. A temper hotter than Tabasco sauce, looks harmless but can kill a man in large doses, you know.

The longer Patty lingered at the Baratie, the more he became convinced Sanji was trouble. Made him want to fight the kid, prove himself stronger, erase the kernel of doubt gnawing away at him.

Something about him, something about his sandy hair and swirly eyebrows rung familiar. Couldn’t remember what it was, but the thought always made him anxious. Carne once joked that maybe Sanji was a runaway prince or something, the chef’s had gotten a good laugh out of that.

Wasn’t as funny when they told the same joke to Sanji, and he flipped out.

Kid had no sense of humor. None! See what Patty had to put up with!?

He’d contemplated quitting several times, but the lure of a stable job always kept him there. A place he could fight, yell, cook to his heart’s content, it would be a slice of heaven if not for Sanji.

Patty vowed that one day, he would definitely kick the jerk out himself. He did not expect to send Sanji off in tears, prouder than he would ever let on, and knowing he was gonna miss the guy.

Patty was no good with children; he couldn’t tell you when it happened, when he’d started to think of the little guy as a younger brother.

All those years of fighting side by side, fighting with each other, had formed a bond between the Baratie crew, one he knew couldn’t be broken.

Not that he’d admit it.

If he read up on news of the strawhats and even kept a couple of the articles featuring their former sous chef, well, that was just a coincidence.

That’s all. He didn’t know it meant Sanji. And if Carne did the same, well, Patty didn’t see a thing.

Nope. Not a thing.


	4. You know what they say about strangers (Royalty)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivi meets a strange boy after her run in with Wapol

Vivi waited for her father on the stairs, knees pulled into her chest, tears clouding her vision. Even now, her forehead ached where Wapol had smacked her. It hurt, but she had to stay strong. For her people.

She nodded in tune.

Compared to millions of lives, this pain was a small thing to bear.

“Hey.”

Flinching, she quickly wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I saw what happened. He’s a real jerk, hitting a girl.”

Blinking, she craned her neck to investigate. A boy was at her shoulder, hands behind his back, heel grinding the pavement. She didn’t recognize him, but he couldn’t have been much older than she was.

“Who’re you?”

“If I were you,” He went on, trudging closer and plopping beside her. “I would’ve killed him.”

“Eh!? W-Why!?” She exclaimed. “What about your people!!?”

Shrugging, he kept his gaze trained ahead, chin rested on his hands. “Don’t care. Actually, I’m pretty sure I hate them.”

Vivi’s mind reeled at this. How could he hate his own people? Her father said--

“B-But you don’t have any weapons on you, do you? How could you have--?”

Before she’d finished her sentence, he’d pulled a knife out of seemingly nowhere.

She squeaked and scooted away until her back hit the concrete railing. “W-Where did you get that!!?”

“Same place I got this.” Again, he moved his hand, and a pistol seemed to materialize out of thin air.

She squeaked again, this time, louder, gesturing frantically to his gun.

“W-Where did you get that--how did you--I-I--” She probably would’ve continued, if he hadn’t hunched over laughing. Her cheeks flooded with warmth, and she cleared her throat in an attempt to compose herself. “You’re not _supposed_ to bring weapons to these. Father says it unethical.”

He sobered at that, setting his weapons down and pulling his knees closer. He looked like she had moments ago. “That’s the point. It’s a good test of how well you can conceal your weapons; that’s why _he_ made me come this time.”

She didn’t understand who _‘he’_ was, but she did know when a person needed comforting. Ignoring her previous misgivings, she scooted closer and squeezed his shoulder.

He gave a nearly inaudible sniff, then straightened. A heartbeat later, he was beaming at her with a wider than life grin. “Hey, did you know you can hide weapons all over your person?”

She frowned and pulled away. “You mean like in a sheath?”

“No, no, like in my sleeve,” He rolled up his ruffled sleeve, revealing a thin holster strapped above his elbow.

“Is that where--!?”

He nodded, “Yeah. And I was hiding my gun here.” He patted his waist, where his shirt hung loose enough to hide any bulges. “Took me forever to get this to work.”

She listened, fascinated as he droned on and on about the types of weaponry and how to conceal them. Funny enough, he recommended she keep something small on her person, just to be safe. Like a metal wire, or a blade.

An odd suggestion for a princess but that did give her an idea...

“Hey!” A shout made both of them jump a foot in the air. “We’re leaving.”

The boy cast a grudging glare over his shoulder, then gave Vivi a tiny smile before skulking off in the direction of the call. “See ya.”

“O-Okay, bye!” She waved after him, watching as he joined a group of people dressed rather strangely. It was only when he’d vanished from sight, did it occur to her she’d forgotten to ask his name.

Oh, well. Maybe, he’d come to the next meeting?


	5. Can't be afraid (Fire)

Sanji backed away until he collided with the wall, and even then, he pressed against it, hoping against hope he’d slide through.

That he’d escape.

Reality was cruel, however. As his glare swept from brother to brother, that’s something he was sure of.

“Quit whining,” Ichiji sneered, holding the sizzling poker up. “I just wanna see what’ll happen.

Sanji’s heel hit the wall as he made another attempt to back away. “Stop it!! It’s not funny!!”

Yonji and Niji snickered on cue, blocking his escape on either side.

He sharpened his glare, trying his hardest to keep the tears at bay. “S-Stop it!!”

“Hold him down.” Ichiji barked, and the other two shot for him, looping their arms around his, and pushing him forward.

 _“Stop it!!”_ He cried again, feeling tears pricking at the corner of his eyes and hating it. As he gaped at the tip of the rod, which was a searing red, his heart slammed into his ribs with enough force to make breathing difficult. He gasped, choking on the acrid smoke wafting from the rod. “S-St..op...”

“What, you gonna cry?” Yonji crowed.

He was. He hated it.

The sound of the door opening jarred him, and he whipped his head around, round eyes settling on his father and sister. Relief washed over him, sweeping away his previous horror. “F-Father!! Help me!!”

His cold gaze flitted over Sanji, then his brothers. He opened his mouth to speak, and Sanji felt his lips begin to curve in a smile.

He was saved!

“Why should I?”

The warmth in his chest froze over. Actually, everything seemed to freeze over. The temperature dropped, his muscles stiffened, his eyes couldn’t be pried from his father’s.

“What use are you to me?”

His father trudged past them, not sparing another glance, even when Ichiji turned to Sanji with a triumphant smirk.

Sanji couldn’t move. Couldn’t glare anymore. Couldn’t try to pull away. Couldn’t keep the tears from falling.

Reiju lingered, peering over Ichiji’s shoulder, muffling a snicker into her palm.

“All right,” He hummed. “I’ve always wondered what kinda mark something like this would leave.”

“The poker from the fireplace?” She asked.

Niji shrugged, “Where else?”

The world was a quivering blur at this point. He could hardly make out the malicious grins on their faces as Ichiji closed the gap between them.

He tried to tug his arms free one last time, but Yonji simply knocked his feet out from under him, shoving him to his knees.

The minutes after that would be a blur of flailing limbs, pain hot as lava searing into his side, screams tearing from his throat with so much force he’d lose his voice for the next week.

Years later, he’d still wake from dreams in a cold sweat. He’d protectively clench his side at the sight of an open flame, where the outline of a rod was burned into his flesh.

Zeff would notice this, among other things, and call him aside one day.

Sanji would spill everything, expect to be thrown out, but shocked silent when Zeff gave him a light kick instead. He’d tell him he couldn’t care less who Sanji’s family was, a cook shouldn’t be afraid of fire. Sanji would yell he wasn’t afraid, knowing full well that was a boldfaced lie.

Zeff would growl at him to prove it, but there’d be no venom in it.

It would take awhile, longer than he was proud of, long enough for his scar to fade until it was only visible beneath a scrutinizing eye.

He would ignore the worried shouts of the Baratie crew as he faced the freak wearing a gong for armor, unfazed as flames licked at the wood beneath his feet.

“H-How could you attack me, the fire pearl that wild beasts won’t even approach!!?”

“Idiot,” He’d grin. “How could a chef ever cook, if he was afraid of fire?”


	6. Longing comes in all shades (Blue)

 

Taking a long relaxing drawl of his cigarette, Sanji draped himself over the railing of the Sunny. Waves lapped hungrily at the stern, shimmering like sapphire beneath the glaring sun.

At times like these, he often found himself here. Times where Luffy was playing with Usopp and Chopper, where that damn Marimo was slumped on the deck after another crazy training exercise, where Franky was locked away tinkering with some new addition to the Sunny, where Robin and Nami were sunbathing, with Brook to provide a soothing melody.

Sanji had no need to busy himself in the Kitchen at times like these, no need to make snacks or prepare their next meal. As much as he loved cooking, he’d probably lose it if that’s all he did; he needed a break sometimes.

If you could call this a break. Whenever he wandered off like this, he couldn’t stop the thoughts from pouring in. He’d wonder how the old geezer was holding up, whether Patty and Carne were giving him trouble.

He’d think about the people he’d met on his journey, if they were managing all right. He’d gaze into the crystal waves, imagining his All Blue, each type of fish he’d see, the types of meals he could make with them.

His lips pulled into a smile.

He’d imagine taking the old geezer there, the way his face would light up when he came face to face with the sea they’d both dreamed of.

Yeah, he’d definitely make sure the old bastard got to see it. He might take Patty and Carne along if he’s feeling generous. He might.

Not all days were that peaceful though, on others, he was plagued by memories of staring longingly at the ocean from his room’s balcony, wishing he could leave, always finding a reason not to.

The guilt was always its worst on those days.

He’d been sailing with Luffy and the others for quite some time, and he still hadn’t told them. It’s not that he didn’t want to, it’s just.. well... he didn’t want to. When they found out how worthless he was, what if they rejected him?

He rationalized he was being ridiculous, that they’d accept him--hell, they’d declared war on the entire world for Robin, a woman considered a pariah by most. But, the nagging ‘what if’ always dried the words in his throat.

For a moment, he could swear he was a kid again, listening to his former sibling’s taunts.

‘You’re just a stain on our reputation!’

‘A loser!’

‘You’re so useless--that’s why nobody wants you!’

His cigarette crumpled between his thumb and index fingers.

No. He could never tell them. Never.

He had to be useful. Had to be strong. He couldn’t drag them down.

Besides, the past was the past. He lived for now.

So what, if they didn’t know his last name? Wasn’t hurting anyone. If Luffy found out about his past, he’d want to fight his family for sure, so in a sense, keeping quiet was even saving someone.

Yeah. It was for the best.

A loud splash snapped him back to reality.

“AHH!! LUFFY FELL IN!!”

“LUFFY!!”

With a resigned sigh, he tugged the collar of his shirt loose and took off in the direction of the shouting. How had that moron managed to fall in this time!?


	7. Food for the hungry (Smile)

Sanji crept along the castle wall, a bento tucked safely in the crease of his arm. The gate came into sight, and he crouched lower, resting a hand in the blades of grass, readying a single knee to charge.

The morning patrol should be passing by any moment, better to wait it out than get caught. If he could, he’d rather escape unnoticed.

As he waited, a breeze ruffled the hedge in front of him, causing a leaf to tickle his nose. He bit his lip, fervently refusing to sneeze. He couldn’t do that, couldn’t blow his cover.

He’d just distract himself by counting his heartbeats! Easy!

One, two, three, four--

_“ACHOO!!”_

“Did ya hear that!?”

Sanji dared to look up, fingers cupped over his mouth.

Two guards were standing at the corner, rifle’s swinging from side to side.

 _Screw it!!,_ He thought, launching from behind the hedge and leaping for the wall. He snagged the top with one hand, the other gripping his bento, and slung himself over it, throwing his weight into a roll like he’d been taught.

“Oh no!!” The same guard cried. “Not this again!!”

“Master Sanji, please come back!!”

As if!! Ignoring their pleas, he tore down the cobblestone path, allowing every second of freedom to seep into him like a breath of life.

Several citizens shook their heads and snickered, pretending not to see his mad dash from the castle. An old lady set a vase of flowers outside her shop, waving as he passed by. “Out to play again, now are we, my prince?”

He spun around, throwing arms up, nearly dropping his bento. “Yes!!”

His love for being outside the castle walls was no big secret. In there, it was cold no matter where he went. The servants barely glanced at him, and his siblings only approached when they wanted to bully and mock him.

It was stifling, and he could never make the goosebumps go away.

But, out here, the air was warm, the people smiled fondly, chuckled, treated him like a prince rather than an eyesore.

Plus, his favorite sight could only be found here.

Slowing his pace, he caught sight of an older man sitting with his back to a café, grungy beard, greasy hair hidden inside a dusty cap. A guitar case was leaned against the wall beside him, and his chin was tilted up as he stared into the cloudy sky. “You again, eh kid?”

The corner of his mouth pulling up, Sanji filled the gap between them. The old guy always had a way of sensing his presence, no matter how quiet he was.

“I made you more food.” He answered, setting the bento in front of him, and sitting with his back to a tree.

As per their tradition, he took a single sandwich and wolfed it down, sliding the box and the rest of its contents to Sanji. Then, he grabbed the guitar case and pulled the instrument out. It’s age and overuse were clear as day, the loose cords, the chipped paint and rugged wood, but that never affected the melody he produced in the slightest.

With a wink, he began to strum on the cords. “Guess it’s time for my payment, eh prince?”

Sanji clapped along to the tune, warmth filling his chest at the sight of the old man’s smile. When the musician had finished his performance, he would bow deeply, and Sanji would be on his way. He’d stop by the rickety tavern, a chorus of cheers greeting him upon his arrival. They’d hoist him on their shoulders, grin and yell how much they loved the food he made.

Many rough pats on the back and playful shoves later, he’d move on to the meadow, where that weird lady liked to skip pebbles in her free time.

She’d tell him about all the places she’d been as she ate, about the adventures she’d had, the people she’d met, about Noland The Liar and the city of gold.

All the while, that dreamy smile would never leave her lips.

By the time the sun was high above his head, the contents in his bento would have dwindled. At this point, he’d make his way to the castle. He’d stick to the walls, creeping around each patrol until he was at the training grounds.

The soldiers would pump their fists in the air, screaming they would return to their workouts momentarily. As they ate, faster each time it seemed, the Captain of the guards would sit by him, and they’d talk about trivial matters.

When the Captain finished, he would try to show off, lifting weights larger than Sanji’s father. Sanji would crow he wasn’t impressed, and the Captain would order a guard to sit on each of the weights. By the end of it, half the guards would be hoisted over the Captain’s soldiers, and Sanji would laugh and laugh.

And, more importantly, everyone would smile.

Whenever they smiled at him, whenever they complimented his cooking, Sanji felt lighter. Sanji felt useful. He may not be a strong warrior, but even he could do this much. Even he could make people happy.

This, by far, was his favorite sight, and it made the beating he was in for later worth it. If he could make people smile, he didn’t care what the consequences were. Nope. Not at all.


	8. Good friends always know how to get on your nerves (Wanted)

Watching the band of pirates stuff themselves with food around the campfire, she couldn’t believe they were wanted criminals.

Yeah, she’d seen them pummel the bandits first hand, and there hadn’t been a doubt in her mind then.

The Captain’s limbs stretched like rubber, not an enemy escaping his reach, the swordsman sliced through metal and flesh with ease, the blonde flipped and spun, kicks powerful enough to send giant men flying.

It had been incredible. Incredibly terrifying, that is.

Especially the shapeshifting reindeer and talking skeleton.

She may have cried. A lot.

But that doesn’t matter, what matters, is how... docile, the pirates were acting now that the danger had passed.

“And for you my lady!!”

She admittedly, nearly fell off the log.

The blonde had walked over while she was zoned out, a plate piled with the most delicious food she’d ever laid eyes on.

“Ahh, at first sight I knew you would be a beauty beyond beliefs--”

The Skeleton began to softly strum on his violin. The Captain and Reindeer’s hands shot over their mouths, tears brimming in their eyes.

Strange.

“--you truly are such a wonderful lady, I can’t believe any bandit would ever dare harm you! The brutes--”

The tune grew steadily swifter, and when he pulled his bow out, it morphed into a rather seductive melody. The swordsman smirked, while the other two were bent over, slapping feebly at the air in an attempt to... hold back laughter?

Stranger.

“No need to fear now, mi’lady, your prince has arrived, and I won’t let--” The skeleton hit a high note, and the blonde broke off mid sentence, head snapping in the direction of the noise. “KNOCK IT OFF, BROOK!!”

The pirates dissolved into laughter, the Captain and Reindeer rolling on the ground, Swordsman throwing his head back.

This did nothing to appease the angry blonde, as he clenched his jaw and passed her the plate. She took it jerkily, never removing her gaze from him.

He turned to her, flirtatious smile having returned fullblast. “As I was--”

Brook resumed his playing, causing the blonde’s eye to do a weird tick, and his leg to catch fire. “Oh, that is it!! I’m so gonna kick your ass Brook!!”

Brook took off running, good thing too, the blonde was on his heels in an instant. “Now, now, Sanji-kun, there’s no need for violence!! Yohohoho!!”

“Shaddup!!

You’d think the crew would jump up to stop them, but they only laughed harder.

The pair did a circle around the firepit, then another and another. Sanji shouting a string of obscenities, Brook playing a tune that sounded suspiciously like a violin version of the Rocky theme.

Before she realized it, a grin had taken hold of her lips. As scary as they were, these guys were kinda funny.

“I’m gonna kill you Brook!! All day long with your shitty incidental music!!”

Any remaining scrap of fear she had left vanished at the image of that skeleton stalking Sanji through town, dishing out tunes to fit his every word and action.

She’d joined in on the laughter before she could stop herself, her near death at the hands of Bandits forgotten.

As Sanji leapt over the pit of fire, heel smashing into Brook’s skull, she decided the world was a strange place, for a group like this to be considered heinous criminals.


	9. Bonus: something like fate (Bellemere POV)

Bellemere missed her girls. She’d been away for nearly two weeks now, and she felt every second of it like a blow to the stomach.

She wondered how they were doing if Nami had stolen anything if Nojiko had gotten into another fight with those boys.

Taking a long drag from her cigarette to calm her rattled nerves, she leaned against the street lamp, mentally counting how much berry she had left to distract herself. She couldn’t get depressed over something she’d decided to do all on her own. She was a woman on a mission!

“Um, excuse me..” A soft voice snapped her from her thoughts.

She craned her neck to get a look, looking down out of habit. She would’ve cursed herself for this silly mistake, if it hadn’t turned out, a small child was actually there this time.

He stared up at her, lips pursed, visible eye wide.

Oh.

Grinning, she squashed her cigarette against the streetlamp and flicked it to the pavement. “What is it, kid?”

His cheeks, though muddy, visibly flushed with color, and he clasped his hands. “You’re hair is weird, but you’re still really beautiful lady!!”

“What did you just say!!?” She snapped, giving his head a well-deserved punch. Hadn’t anyone taught this brat any manners!?

“Ow!!” He whined, giving the bump created a somewhat remorseful pat. “Why’d you do that!?”

“That’s my question you rude brat!!” She yelled back, shaking her fist at him for affect. Okay, so maybe she was being childish, but she’d never claimed to have _completely_ matured.

“I was just asking for directions!!” The kid argued, not missing a beat.

“Then you should’ve just asked instead of--agh!! Where are your parents!!?”

After all, he wouldn’t be asking for directions if he was from around here, and definitely not from a tourist. What kind of parents would let their child wander around all by himself in a strange town!?

The kid visibly paled at the mention of his parents, fists balling up until they turned noticeably red.

“I-I dunno.” He stammered five heartbeats later, followed by a jerky shrug that wasn’t convincing at all.

She narrowed her eyes, really looking at the kid for the first time. She hadn’t thought much of his messy hair and dirtied skin, but upon closer inspection, even his clothes were in tatters--as though he’d been running through the forest until recently. There was another town, but it was on the other side of the island, wasn’t it?

It didn’t take her long to draw a conclusion. She’d been around, she’d seen runaway brats before. Turning him in would be the best option.

Judging by the way he was tapping his feet and drumming his fingers along his pant leg, he’d probably bolt if she brought it up. For now, she’d make sure he couldn’t run until she’d confirmed this.

So, she rested her hands on her hips and threw her head back in a howling laugh. “You are such a brat!! All right, I’ll forgive you for insulting my hair if you buy me lunch--” She trailed off purposely, gesturing for him to fill the blank.

“...Sanji..”

Grinning, she extended a hand to shake. “Bellemere, orange farmer from the East Blue, nice to meetcha.”

He took it rather grudgingly. “If you’re from the East Blue, why’re you all the way out here in the North?”

As his sweaty fingers met with hers, she swiped the wallet carelessly poking out of his pocket.

Nothing special, just a trick she’d picked up from her days as a delinquent. Which were clearly over. She was nothing short of an upstanding citizen.

Winking, she held his wallet up for him to see. “Tell ya over lunch, ‘kay?”

His mouth fell open.

She spun around before he could make too much noise, humming a low note beneath her breath. It would be a pain for her if he drew the attention of that lovely marine reading by the curb.

She lead him to the small diner near the oceanside, enlightening him with the knowledge of that special fertilizer she’d sailed all this way to purchase. If she could increase the quality of her oranges, sales would increase, and she’d be able to buy Nami and Nojiko better clothes and food.

He seemed burnt out by the end of it, eye wide, head tilted to the side. He’d loosened his guard a bit, though, so mission accomplished.

Time to do some digging.

“So, brat, are you a local?”

He hunched his shoulders, sinking into the booth a bit. “N-No. I’m just passing through.”

“Passing through, huh? You’re pretty mature even though you’re just a brat.” Now that she thought about it, Sanji had to be around Nami’s age. “I have two daughter’s back home, ya know, in Cocoyasi Village.” She held her hand over his head, mentally comparing the image of her adorable daughter and the runaway brat. She was a bit taller. “The youngest is about your age.”

He blinked, irritation dissipating into curiosity. “Really?”

“Mmhm. Her name’s Nami--she’s really cute if I do say so myself.”

He seemed interested at that, a stupid grin pulling at his lips. Making an expression like that, how could he expect her _not_ to tease him?

“Maybe you two will get married one day.”

His reaction was everything she’d wanted and more as he nearly fell out of the booth, nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Ew! No way!! I like girls, but I don’t wanna marry one!!”

Bellemere busted out laughing before she could stop herself. What kind of logic was that!?

“What’s so funny!!?” Sanji snapped. “Weird hair!!”

She sobered instantly at that. No one insulted her hair. “Shaddup, weird eyebrows!!”

“Pickpocket!!”

“Brat!!”

Silence settled over the table, and they jerked their heads in opposite directions.

Nojiko’s voice materialized in her mind as an exasperated sigh. _“Bellemere...”_

Another moment and she caved, releasing the air coiled in her lungs. “We’re being childish.”

Sanji nodded, head downcast. “..Yeah.”

Well, at least he wasn’t acting snotty about it. That’s a rare trait in a kid his age.

“Hey, you should come visit some time. My oranges are the best you’ll ever taste--I guarantee it.”

Sanji squirmed in his seat, “Y-Yeah. Sure thing.”

She smiled wide enough for her cheeks to sting. “Great! You can buy me lunch again!”

His eye shot wide as a saucer, and he opened his mouth, probably to yell he’d changed his mind, but the waiter chose this moment to set their food on the table. Aha, it was fate!

“Ahh! Thank you!” Bellemere wasted no time digging in. Being a marine, she’d been trained to eat her food quickly as possible. The sea was a dangerous place, and if something were to happen, she needed to be ready, as did the rest of them.

Funny how stuff like that stuck.

Sanji gaped at her like she’d grown a pair of wings, then relented with a slight shake of the head, concentrating on cutting his steak into neat pieces.

Better table manners than her girls. And her. Huh.

“You wabted difections?” She asked through a mouthful of steak.

He didn’t look at her. “To the docks, yeah.”

Didn’t mention any family.

She swallowed with a slow nod. “I’ll show you. I was heading there anyways.”

That settled it; she’d take him to a Marine base. A kid traveling all by himself was plain dangerous.

He mirrored her nod, not meeting her gaze.

They polished off their meal in a matter of minutes, and she left him outside while she went to pay. He clearly didn’t trust her, but he wouldn’t leave without his wallet. Couldn’t. All the ships currently docked here required a fee to board.

“Is that boy yours?” The guy working the register asked, a friendly smile plastered across his face.

“Huh?” She blinked, and glanced out the window the brat was leaning against, studying the clouds with an almost peaceful expression. Sure, budget was tight right now, but if she--no!! She couldn’t afford another child!!

Stick with the plan!

She fished her wallet out of her back pocket, setting down the correct amount, then turning to leave. She may have been wild in her youth, but extorting a runaway brat’s money was a low she hadn’t ever been willing to reach.

Pushing the doors open, she shoved her wallet in her pocket and pulled his out. What the heck, she’d give the kid his money back.

Maybe if she asked, he’d tell her what this was all about. Then, depending on his answer, she’d decide her next course of action.

Report him, leave him be, or...

Not that it mattered. By the time she’d made it outside, the brat was gone.

She scanned the street up and down, checked around the corner, but there was no sign of him. An Elderly couple was frantically pulling aside the marine from earlier, a cat was stretching out in a nice patch of sunshine, but no brat.

As the sun sank beneath the ocean waves, she frowned at his wallet, wondering what to do with the thing. Taking a closer look, she discovered it was not only caked in mud, but there was traces of blood around the edges, as though he’d been injured, and had bled into his pockets. The money itself was in no better condition.

The knot in her chest tightened until it was almost unbearable.

She pictured Nami or Nojiko on the run, covered in injuries and filth, their only currency a couple of blood stained berry’s.

Damnit. She hoped the kid was all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading ー( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ I hope you enjoyed!


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